OVERALL NOISE RATING: 2 (Few latecomers but the pertinent few continue to file right in, right up to the first 10 rows, causing seated people to stand for them, blocking the view of the Prime Minister, and disturbing our diva, who was concentrating on her third Rossini aria... shame, shame. Hint: Move only when people are clapping, and finish moving before the clapping ends.)

The Noise Rating Index is a partially-objective measurement of pager and handphone blasts, 9pm and 10pm watch beeps, coughing-during-the-pianissimo-bits, intra-audience conversation and other mind-bogglingly inept noises emitted in the concert hall during actual performance of music. It is measured on a scale of 0 to 5, in increasing annoyance.

Ticket for the Inkpot classical music reviewer has been kindly sponsored by The Arts Magazine/Esplanade Co. Johann would like to express his deepest thanks to Mrs Thio (Shane's mom) for being The Angel with the Spare Ticket.

I must congratulate The Arts Magazine. First for bringing in first-class artists and further, for paying careful attention to details, all very simple but extremely classy touches. The white screen behind Sumi Jo, the consistent small-caps tag-lines, the effective use of yellow - all contributed to my belief that the magazine is run by people dedicated to professionalism.

One slip that I must mention - because it irked me so much, was the lack of professionalism on the part of the emcee for the night. He would do himself a great favour by at least preparing what he wanted to say - instead of making up his story in front of an audience who came to listen to Sumi Jo. Short of making a fool of himself in front of the Prime Minister, he repeatedly drew references to his wife, his own production of La Traviata and took his time to give us his opinions on the composer Eva dell'Acqua much to my irritation. Look, we came to listen to Sumi Jo! To top it off, he misled the audience by telling us that the Debussy chanson "Clair de lune" ("Moonlight") shares the familiar tune with the piano piece of the same name. Debussy wrote three "Clair de lune"’s in his lifetime. Two different chansons by that name set to words written by Paul Verlaine and one piano work, the famed one, as part of a suite.

This week has been the Sumi Jo Week. Everyone's abuzz with talk of this formidable soprano discovered by Herbert von Karajan. Personally, I met Sumi Jo at the press conference, chatted a bit with her; attended her talk at Borders and finally watched the jewel of the week - her concert recital. It is such a difference when one gets the opportunity to discover for oneself the person that hides behind the fame, the sultry CD cover photographs, and of course, the acting voice.

When she first walked into the press conference, I was all geared up to meet greatness in its face - that dissolved quickly because Sumi Jo in her own unique way put me in great ease. No, the lady of the hour did not have airs at all. She spoke modestly, and charmed us with very Oriental flair - an issue which she stands for, being the first Asian to make it 'big time' in the opera circuit.

Sumi Jo has worked with giants such as Karajan, Ozawa, Maazel, Bonynge and Mehta. She recounts with passion that she especially respected the way which Maestro Seiji Ozawa and Zubin Mehta, in their own Asian identity, understood her needs and feelings both vocally and in the way she prepared her concerts and operas. This is the hallmark of not only great musicians but great human beings as well. This latter quality struck me throughout her hour-long press conference and further - at every opportunity that I met her.

Sumi Jo realises that her art is a human quality - has its meaning and value because of its humanness and with every certainty, she goes all out to live it in her life and art. There is ample evidence of her greatness in her talk at Borders (Oct 9) when she gamely sang, played and responded to teasing with such human elegance and feminine humour. Further, her recital was peppered with much visible personality - the precise quality that renders recordings an embarrassment. This is a living presence that must be experienced. This diva, in all her greatness, will be in her own way - 'ordinary' because she touches the hearts of the people she meets so easily.

I thank my lucky stars that I was at this concert. I know the feeling when my voice teacher tells me that he has seen Callas, Schwarzkopf, etc. in "living presence". Now, when I am sixty - I can say to the generation which will only know Jo from recordings that: "when I was twenty-something, I watched Sumi Jo in a recital at the Victoria Concert Hall"...

Jo opened the concert with one of the most beautiful lilac gowns I have ever seen, which made me recall her telling us at the press conference about Italians hating purple gowns and about how she has had to copy Christian Dior couture during the infancy of her career. Now, this beautiful lady with a figure many would be envious of, has a very talented Korean designer design gowns for her.

Jo communicates great confidence that is infectious. Choosing lyric Rossini instead of the embellished arias, Jo makes a statement - that her instrument is well capable of opening up at will - to handle larger Verdi and Puccini heroines. Though not intonation-perfect, Jo wowed at every opportunity, soaring and executing allargandos with effortless ease. Recovering from a shaky start, Shane Thio offered matching accompaniment that was effective and imaginative. A little less occasional muddying would be perfect. Sumi Jo employs her humanistic wit in the childish La Fioraia fiorentina. It is difficult not to smile and laugh with her.

I love the Debussy. Shane Thio started off very beautifully and what a marvellous match they were. Jo's account of the Debussy revealed her perfect French diction and captures the spirit of the songs thoroughly. A few minor lapses of concentration resulted as the audience, clearly enjoying even this rare repertory, could not hold the applause till the end of the cycle.

Jo could be heard darkening her tone for the Ari Ariranj, a popular Korean song that I remember singing when I was young. Though I entertained doubts at her choice of a darkened tone against a tapestry of vocal embellishments, even more so the addition of embellishments on a sorrowful subject such as this - the deafness of one's heart to the sadness of departure - but somehow, Jo convinces by applying a 'mad scene' treatment that arguably worked. Her soulful darkness aptly balanced the arranged embellishments and communicated a sense of misarranged desolation.

The much awaited Arditi was executed with much charm by a confident Sumi Jo who was clearly enjoying herself. Shane Thio (right) conjured orchestral forces and the atmosphere was one of throbbing excitement. Jo sang without a hint of effort, tossing off run after run with magnificent ease.

The second half of the programme started with great anticipation. The audience could not get enough of this diva and much impatience was sensed in the concert hall. Appearing in a white gown with red flowers, Jo again delivered convincing accounts of the Bishop and Mendelssohn in their original English and German respectively. Her handling of foreign accents is very remarkable. I am reminded here that this is a woman of great intelligence. Eva dell'Acqua's Villanelle is a mix of tender lyric phrasing topped with coloratura, a combination that suits Jo like a hand in a glove.

Her account of "O quante volte" from Bellini's I Capuletti E I Montecchi so moved me that I was close to shedding a tear. Jo affirmed that she is indeed the opera diva assoluta of the moment with her stunning aria from La Traviata. Taking things at her own pace and developing each note with assured technique and nuance - truly, I have not heard a better "Sempre libera".

The thunderous applause was an indication that the audience was clearly at her feet. Jo, who had been deservedly joying herself amongst an audience that simply loved her - volunteered six encores. What a treat indeed! She playfully indulged in her rendition of Edvard Grieg's Ich liebe dich ("I Love You") by teasing the audience with a delayed repeat. At the end of the "Mein Herr Marquis" which Jo cheekily shortened, the audience responded with unending applause and a full-house standing ovation, upstairs included. Truly a concert to be remembered for life. [Readers might like to note that standing ovations in classical concerts in Singapore is extremely rare. - Ed.]

It will not be long before Jo progresses to the much-awaited stage roles of Verdi and Puccini. This voice is no longer the same thin and light coloratura I heard in 1994. There is a strong lyric quality that possesses her interpretation and this combined with her already phenomenal technique, charm, beauty and ...you name it... will propel her to even greater stardom once she begins to tackle mainstream opera.

The night's offering was likened to a 'voyage'. As The Arts Magazine very aptly put it - "a night of the known by known (Verdi, Mendelssohn), unknown by the known (Debussy); known by the unknown (Il bacio, Ari Ariranj), and unknown by unknown (Eva dell'Acqua)."

Right down to the encores offered, I loved this programme - it is decidedly well-considered. Well in her compass and abilities, Jo created an atmosphere of sustained greatness, tantalizingly satisfying in its vocal floridness, evocatively moving at its great lyric moments and amazingly stupefying at the top notes of the stave. Up till the mischievious moment she herself closed the piano lid and walked off for the last time, Sumi Jo astounds.

Ng Yeuk Fan is thankful that they turned the aircon down, so that he, who is nearly deaf, can hear Sumi Jo better.

Click to Return to the Concert Index!... or Visit the Inkvault archives!

317: 13.10.98

Explore the Flying Inkpot